I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

hyped garbage

Awesome Movie

A story that's too fascinating to pass by...

At just 25, Brazilian director Glauber Rocha directed Black God, White Devil, now considered one of the most important pictures to ever come out of Brazil, and a key entry into the Cinema Novo movement. Combining elements of Sergio Leone, Italian neo-realism, and Soviet propaganda such as the work of Sergei Eisenstein, Rocha created a brutal, grainy world inhabited by suicidal religious fanatics, wandering hit men, and psychopathic bandits. From the opening shots of rotting animal corpses and the endless Brazilian sertão, Rocha portrays a grim social realism, one of the key aspects of Cinema Novo.Ranch-hand Manuel (Geraldo Del Rey) lives in poverty with his wife Rosa (Yona Magalhaes). Fed up with his situation, he goes into town to sell his stock, only to have his boss try to cheat him out of his money, so Manuel kills him with a machete. Fleeing the authorities, he falls in with maniacal preacher Sebastiao (Lidio Silva), who leads Manuel, Rosa and his other followers on a killing spree. Circumstances lead to Manuel leaving the cause, and joining up with famous bandit Corisco (Othon Bastos), who also leads the couple on an orgy of meaningless violence and thievery. But shadowy gun-for-hire Antonio das Mortes (Mauricio do Valle), having been paid by the church and a poltician, is hot on Corisco's tail.The film very much reminded me of Cormac McCarthy's astounding novel Blood Meridian, where the sheer brutality of the violence played as a metaphor for a society gone sour and a world intent of self-destruction. Like Blood Meridian's The Kid, Manuel and Rosa follow blindly to whichever cause they see a glimmer of hope in. They fail to see the lunacy of Sebastiao's behaviour, and it's only at the point where he stabs a baby in the heart that their eyes seem to be opened, only for them to shack up with the gibbering Corisco, a man who speaks like a poet but doesn't seem to be able to comprehend his own existence. It is at this point, about two-thirds in, that the film seems to lose momentum and becomes somewhat of an unfathomable mess.But it isn't just the social-political ponderings that make Black God, White Devil so memorable, it also has style in abundance. The camera-work is shaky and urgent at times, full of character close-ups from awkward angles, but it also uses fast editing reminiscent of Eisenstein's greatest works. Similar to Battleship Potemkin's (1925) Odessa steps sequence, the Monte Santo chapel massacre at the hands of Antonio das Mortes is simply electrifying. It is das Mortes' presence that leads to the moments that evoke the work of Sergio Leone, wrapping the shady anti-hero in moody atmosphere like Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name. It's a dangerous mixture of conflicting styles that works beautifully, making the film beautiful and cool, occasionally horrifying, and undoubtedly important. It's just a shame it doesn't manage to keep up with the absolutely astonishing opening two-thirds.

I loved the first two-thirds of this jaw-dropping epic. For my second viewing, this time with a friend, we both agreed that it fell to pieces after that point, becoming incoherent and unfathomable, whilst still being stylish and remaining 'strange'.The visual sense was part 'Aguirre, Wrath of God' and Sergio Leone's 'Once Upon a Time in the West'. But, in grainy, high contrast black & white. Camera movements are urgent rather than flowing with the odd editing flourish to enliven the action. We both found this approach initially utterly mesmerising.This film is of hardcore fanaticism, with religious bigotry and the sheer survival in the harsh scrub desert-lands of northern Brazil. Some scenes are reminiscent of Russian cinematic masterpieces by Eisentstein, as in Ivan the Terrible. I think some scenes will offend and appal many viewers whilst still retaining mystery and that 'Wow, this is something totally different and exciting'. The sort of film that has the critics swooning but with the actual film-lover rather less than overawed. I'd rather not go into all the narrative in and outs, mostly because it is the overall effect and impression that it has left on me. Unforgettable, true; daring and significant, undoubtedly. But that doesn't make it a film any easier to watch, though. I would give the first two thirds 9/10 and the remainder five.

This movie is so fantastic! I've seen it like 10 times or so, and I still get impressed whenever I watch it. Glauber Rocha, who was a total genius, unites various elements of Brazil's Northeastern culture in a great story about alienation of the people. The story is narrated by a singer who impersonates a regional popular singer; and the visual aspects of the film and the tone of black and white are supposed to resemble the rhymes and the woodcut covers which invoke the "literatura de cordel", or "string literature", which is very common in the northeast of Brazil(not so much today, but certainly in the 60's). The film shows how the powerful control the poorest through violence and intimidation, and how religion and the "Cangaço" movement can be bad when a person without perspective and objectives in life get involved with them. Manuel, the main character, is totally alienated by the "black god" Sebastião, which resembles, in many ways, real Brazilian preacher Antônio Conselheiro; and by the "white devil" Corisco(a real Cangaceiro who worked with real and, in the 20's and 30's, widely famous Cangaço boss Lampião), wonderfully performed by Othon Bastos, while the hired gun Antonio das Mortes is on the look for both Sebastião and Corisco through the badlands of Northeast. This is a real masterpiece!!

"So I've told you a story/of truth and imagination/I hope you've learned the lesson/and see this world is unjustly divided/for the land belongs to man/not to God nor to the Devil". Thus sings the narrator of Glauber Rocha's astonishing, symphonic, revolutionary epic masterpiece that changed Brazilian cinema overnight, was enthusiastically praised by great international filmmakers (Buñuel, Pasolini, Bertolucci, Godard, Leone) and stormed Cannes in 1964. Glauber, just 23 at the time of filming, combines a wide range of influences (Eisenstein, Dovzhenko, Humberto Mauro, John Ford, Welles, Rossellini, cinema-vérité, Godard, Buñuel, Brecht, Marx, Frantz Fanon, Guimarães Rosa, José Lins do Rego, Euclides da Cunha, Villa- Lobos, Portinari, Brazilian Art Brut and Northeastern popular culture) to achieve a poetic, explosive, entirely unique style that bombards the screen with unforgettable images, sounds and political significance."Truth and imagination" are the keywords to the film. Inspired by actual events ("truth") raised to almost mythological heights ("imagination") by Brazilian pamphlet literature ("literatura de cordel") and folklore, the film follows poor peasant cowherd Manuel and his wife Rosa in their dire saga through the Brazilian "sertão" (the arid hinterland in the Northeast of Brazil), and their encounters with "God" -- personified by black prophet Beato Sebastião (who turns out to be a messianic madman) -- and the many "Devils", personified by "Blond Devil" Corisco, the very last of the "cangaceiros" (heavily armed bandits who terrorized the "sertão" and became popular anti-heroes, not unlike U.S. Wild West bandits); Antonio das Mortes, the mercenary headhunter hired by local politicians and priests to kill Corisco; and Moraes, the cattle owner who, by humiliating Manuel, finally brings forth Manuel's tempestuous reaction and subsequent journey into crime, religious fanaticism, tragedy and final enlightenment.The highlights are countless: the film's opening shots, with the fly-infested carcasses of dead cows and horses out of thirst and famine under the blazing sun; the slow-paced depiction of Manuel+Rosa's lives in abject poverty, their hard and repetitive work, their endless struggle against hunger and inclement weather; the extraordinarily inventive sung narration, in the style of the "cantadores" (minstrels) of the "sertão", setting all the action in motion and commenting on it; the electrifying montage of the Monte Santo massacre, a tribute to Einsenstein's iconic Odessa steps scene in "Potemkim", and just as riveting; the Monte Santo chapel sequence, as Manuel kills an innocent baby in ritual sacrifice only to suddenly realize the horror of blind religious fanaticism; Beato Sebastião, fatally stabbed by Rosa, deliriously crawling on the altar's big crucifix as he tries to place himself on the cross as a new Messiah; the expressionist scene where the shadows of Rosa's knife and Antonio das Mortes' rifle "touch" on the chapel wall, marking the birth of a new, doomed pact of blood and death; Villa-Lobos' famous Bachianas #5 vocalise dictating the pace of Corisco+Rosa's passionate kiss while the camera draws frantic circles around them; the Buñuelian power of the sequence where the wedding party turns into a nightmarish terror of merciless torture and rape.There's much more: Othon Bastos's amazing performance as Corisco, with his electric, restless body movements and thunderous voice ("Corisco" means lightning in Portuguese). There's a staggeringly bold conception in the scene -- partly influenced by Kurosawa's Rashomon and partly by the trance tradition of Afro-Brazilian religions -- where Corisco suddenly "incorporates" the spirit of dead bandit Lampião, aka the "king of the cangaceiros": Bastos' voice lowers, his gestures become hieratic, the camera frames just half of his head in extreme close-up (the "split" personality), alternating with close-ups of the emblematic elements of his "cangaceiro" outfit, where bullets, crucifixes, silver coins, guns and amulets co-exist, representing religious faith, ostentation, superstition, vanity and thirst for blood. Observe the way Glauber "arranges" his characters on screen: they always move "magnetically" toward other characters with whom they identify at given moments; it's a Brechtian, choreographic mise-en-scène in a completely non-theatrical environment (the vast openness of the sertão!). Waldemar Lima's weightless, dizzying camera and high-contrast lighting is essential to the film's aesthetics, as is Sérgio Ricardo's voice and guitar-playing as the narrating minstrel, Rafael Valverde's virtuoso, multi-style editing and the unique locations in the hinterland of Bahia.I could go on and on; it's such a rich film that multiple viewings are required, culminating in the breathtaking finale of unforgettable poetic and political impact. Building a realist/expressionist/ mythological portrayal of Brazilian sertão -- the inhuman labor and life condition of the illiterate, destitute, God-fearing peasants, perennially exploited by landowners, politicians, bandits, Catholic priests and doomsday messianic "prophets" -- Glauber proposed a "new Brazilian cinema" for a new Brazil, less ignorant, less corrupt, less unequal, less exploitative. A country where land could finally belong to Man, not to God nor to the Devil. Rocha's ambitious dream was traumatically excised by the Brazilian military coup of 1964, that buried all hopes of a long-awaited and much-hailed political and agrarian reform that ultimately caused the deposition (with the CIA's active help) of left-wing President João Goulart. But this incendiary, revolutionary, poetic manifesto influenced a whole generation and is still dazzling enough to keep inspiring filmmakers and audiences whose blood boils for socially-aware films that are also non-conformist works of art. A masterpiece.